You have my word, and my bow
by Michelfe
Summary: Arda is in peril and a great darkness in overcoming the land. Gollum has escaped Mirkwood palace and Legolas has been sent to deliver the message to Imladris- but the journey to the Valley is not what he expects and Middle Earth is in a danger greater than ever before This is the story of Legolas' journey to the Council of Elrond in Rivendell, and his adventures on the way
1. Chapter 1

The throne room in Mirkwood was rarely a pleasant place to be in. It was softly lit, yet dark and foreboding; One could say it was like the minutes before dusk embodied in a room. The source of the mysterious glow was invisible, but the shadows could be seen dancing on the walls, even when someone was standing as stiff as a rock. And on this autumn evening there stood a brooding, young elf, tall as a tree, and still as a rock, staring at his dancing shadow - with his back to his father.

Of all the elves in the palace Legolas Greenleaf was the only one permitted to show any disrespect to the king whatsoever. Of course, it was rare that he ever did, but when he decided to, it was a sight to behold.

"Legolas, you _know_ we need you here, besides, how can we even be sure that this is true? You are not of the Wise, and even if you were they have made mistakes before!" King Thranduil had abandoned his formal speech on this occasion.

"How many times have I had to tell you father. Have you completely forgotten the battle under the mountain!? We may have defeated the orcs, but we lost so many lives without even scratching the forces of evil. Ignorance is fatal, isn't it obvious that Sauron has returned, what problem do you have with helping the cause and sending me to the council?"

That was the issue, Legolas had heard that an elven representative was needed to give the message of Gollum's escape. He had been, quite rightly, sick of following Gollum around like a slave and chasing spiders around the forest. He had tasted proper, actual, _real_ adventure when the dwarves came, now that was all he wanted. Thranduil knew it, but Legolas just couldn't understand why he wouldn't let him have it.

"See, Legolas... Son. I have absolutely no problem with helping defeat Sauron, but I can simply not afford to have you gone from here, it is dangerous..."

"Are you blind father, do you not see that it is dangerous in the forest _because_ Sauron has returned? What else could be the cause, if you think it is a Nazgul, that is a symptom of the same misfortune"

Thranduil couldn't help but wonder why his son was so desperate to leave the safe halls of Mirkwood. And he was even more curious as to why he would think his father, would send him out into the forest, to Rivendell, to warn them of the escape of a single goblin mutant, _because _Sauron was back? Wouldn't that be even more of a reason not to send him? He was beginning to wish that Galadriel would just come and tell him what his son was thinking.

"I never said he wasn't back Legolas, I just..."

"Actually, Father, I do believe that you said yourself that I was 'not of the Wise, and even if I were, they had made mistakes before'. Forgive me if I am misunderstanding you, but does that not mean that you think he has not returned? "

The king couldn't help grimacing at his situation. His son, his only son, the daughter of his only beloved, was going to leave. And it was not just a matter of leaving, it was a matter of living or dying, returning or vanishing into the Halls of Mandos. He did not want to have to join him and his mother there, he would rather they go together to Valinor so that he may stay with his only son, and fulfil the wishes of his only wife.

Thranduil studied his son's face carefully, he looked so much like his mother, and yet like he looked like his father too. He reminded Thranduil of his own father and of the tales of Beleriand and the Sindarian elves that lived there... He really didn't want to let his son go, and yet something told him that he would forever regret keeping him here.

"Father, I would prefer if you made up your mind, the creature Gollum was no Goblin, no Orc, he was some animal corrupted by _dark magic_, magic stronger than we have seen before, do you think it is _safe_ for it to be roaming mirkwood? Do think we should _not_ alert the Noldor of Rivendell?"

You could see in Legolas' eyes that he was frustrated with his fathers' lack of compliance, and yet the small flame of anger hidden in his irises only seemed to make him colder. Once again he turned his back to his father, letting the shadows cloak him and only the dancing light and his shallow breathing revealed his presence.

Thranduil slumped back into his chair. He couldn't understand how, and why his son was so desperate to leave. He would have thought that an encounter with a dragon, dwarves of Erebor, a shapeshifter, one of the Istari and the Eagles of Manwe would be enough to satisfy one's craving for adventure for at least a few hundreds of years. Apparently not.

"I do not understand Legolas."

"Then think father, my fea is linked to yours, we are kin, surely you must understand, even if it means travelling back to your childhood, to before the Last Alliance, before you hid from the dark and surrounded yourself with illusions."

Thranduil did know, he did. But he did not understand. Legolas was risking his _life_ to simply tell another quendi of an escaped mutant creature. Thranduil knew that feeling he had felt it before, and yet, the only result was cowardice, and loss. He could not let his son through this. And then Legolas turned back, putting an end to the silence.

"I have learned much in my 2000 years father. But have _you_ not learned that I am the best archer in this forest? Will you not give me a _chance_? To prove myself, to see something other than my shadow on a stone wall, or a poisoned deer in the forest?"

Finally, Thranduil realised he would have to give in to his son. He loved him, he was his family,he didn't want to lose him, but he couldn't just imprison him. Legolas had tasted adventure, now nothing else mattered to him. He remembered when he had said to Thorin Oakenshield "One hundred years is a blink in the life of an elf" Legolas had waited thousands, not really a blink any more. Thranduil knew he should let him go, but he couldn't bare to lose him. But then again, keeping him in the palace was just as bad, for he would lose him anyway.

"Legolas, you are my son, and I do not want to lose you. I know you will do anything in your power to stay alive, and to help others too, like your mother. I just, I have been reluctant because, I know you will go, if you have a chance."

"Go, where?"

"Never mind, but you may go"

"I give you my word father, and my bow"

And with that Legolas, walked solemnly, yet happily out of the throne room.

Only Thranduil was still uncertain, he had heard rumours, which he would rather not be true. He had not told Legolas the meaning of the Orc's words, the meaning of _the One_. For indeed, the orc _had_ told Thranduil all he needed to know, and it was for the better that he freed it's wretched head from its mutinous body... and maybe for the worse that he hadn't told Elrond.

After a few reviews I've edited this chapter drastically, I hope you like this version better!


	2. Chapter 2

Legolas inspected his new bow with searching eyes. It was long and graceful and made from the trees in Mirkwood. It was relatively light compared to other bows the size of his, but it was heavy enough to feel steady in his hands. Legolas felt so important choosing weapons from the royal store, he looked up at his father who nodded in approval of his son's choice of weapons.

"Legolas, be safe, I want to see your face again. Your pack is ready and so is the horse"

When Legolas looked up at his father he immediately stepped back. Was that, a tear? He cringed as he saw it vanish into his cheek and cautiously offered his father handkerchief.

"If, if you really, _really_ can't bear to see me leave... now" Legolas didn't really know what to say, he wasn't going to give up this opportunity now that it had been offered to him  
"I can always wait another day or two"

"No, no off you go, be safe, and look out for Orcs, and Gollum"

"Thanks dad" Legolas felt the autumn breeze on his face as he mounted his white horse and waved to his father, he knew his father would watch him until he crossed over the horizon and could virtually hear him thinking 'don't do anything stupid Legolas' but he stopped thinking and looked out along the river. Despite his father's advice he decided to follow the enchanted river down to the Mirkwood Mountains. He would cross them and then follow the old forest road out of the forest, across the ford and into the mountains where Rivendell was hidden. However, it looked like he would be following his father's advice after all, because he had just missed the turn, and could now barely see the opening in trees.

He couldn't help but remember the dwarves escape from Mirkwood in the barrels now. The river was raging as usual and he could see some of the wine barrels floating off to the remade Laketown, that was one tradition that _hadn't_ changed since Smaug had been destroyed. He definitely admired the intelligence of the company's hobbit, Bilbo seemed to have a knack for getting out of sticky situations, Legolas hadn't even thought that they would get to the barrels when he had been guarding them. Those dwarves were extremely ungrateful too; they should have been kinder to the Hobbit instead of sending him away, but what else was to be thought of dwarves?

He looked back at the river, and at the barrels, wondering how the dwarves could have fit in them (especially the fat one) when he noticed one was sitting unusually low in the water. He could see the end of Mirkwood and the curve in the river on the horizon. He dismounted and ran over to the river, following the barrel. It dipped up and down in the rapids and Legolas could hear a muffled yelp when it was turned to its side. Knowing that someone or something was in the barrel he ran to the curve in the river and hauled it to shore.

The inhabitant of the barrel was, thankfully, not a malicious prisoner escaping - but rather, an elf child in her early thirties. The girl had long, bistre hair, the same colour as the soil on the riverbank, which reached her hips and deep blue eyes like twilight. To a mortal man she would have appeared as a twelve year old, but Legolas knew she was an elf.

"Why, and how did you get into that barrel?" Legolas realised it probably wasn't the friendliest greeting but it would have to do

"I am sorry Your Highness but I want to leave, I don't like being locked inside the castle – Why are _you_ out here?" Her voice was fair and sweet, but she was determined and unwavering before the prince.

"Please, don't call me Your Highness, I am going to an important meeting if you had to know. But, it is dangerous out here, especially for a young elf like you." The girl's responding glare frightened him, _he just sounded so much like his father. _

"Can you just leave me alone Your Highness, I don't want to go back, and you can't make me."

Legolas couldn't help but marvel at this girl's attitude, she was still calling him _Your Highness_ and was looking at him with a sassy facial expression "Well, if I left you here, where would you go? Do you even know your way around?"

It seemed that girl began to ponder what he had just said, that was a start. He was honestly trying to help her, but he was getting a hint that she might not have wanted to have his advice. Suddenly he heard a series of cries come from the forest, Orcs. He was expecting her to come up with some witty comeback about him not being able to sense danger, not push him into the lake and dive in after him. He grabbed his bow and scrambled to the edge of the river. He was about to send an arrow flying into the forest when he heard the sounds of elven horns blowing. Immediately he dove back into the river and hid behind a barrel. He would not let himself be seen by the other elves. How stupid he would seem, everyone would be whispering about how the prince was pushed in the river by a child!

As soon as he heard the elves galloping away he swam to shore and shook out his cloak. He was miserable, wet and cold, plus it was getting dark. He went back to the river and offered a hand to the girl.

"If you were wondering, the name I was hoping you would call me by is Legolas, but I would like it if I could call you something other than _girl_" he was hoping that his casual attitude would cheer her up.

"My name- is Ärilíeld but I would prefer Äri" The girl had begun to feel the cold and weight of her clothes and was waiting in anticipation while her teeth chattered constantly as Legolas sifted through his bags for spare cloaks.

Legolas threw a dark blue cloak and a piece of Lembas bread to Äri began to make space on the horse for her. He wished he could send her, the horse and all his spare supplies back to Mirkwood, but he figured that if he couldn't light a fire because of Orcs, he definitely couldn't send her alone back to the palace. Äri mounted the horse with ease and began to finger the reins  
"No, no I am leading the horse, you can ride behind me" Legolas was not going to let her, he _was_ after all in a slight rush, he couldn't be late to Rivendell. Äri shuffled back as Legolas mounted, but she had brightened up immediately after he said she would be riding somewhere.

"Where are we going Legolas?"

"I am crossing the Misty Mountains, but _you_ will be leaving me at the ford, you can ride a horse right?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Legolas' POV**

There had been few signs of orcs for the past three days, but Legolas stood in the dim light of the tiny fire with open ears and watching eyes as he drifted in and out of light sleep. His horse, pack and Äri were closely huddled together in the back of the cave, and Legolas could hear her shifting in the intervals of her dreams.

Legolas was relishing his adventure, and Äri and his horse had proven to be quite good companions on the journey. The trio were way ahead of schedule and were now only one day's ride from the ford where they was set to split, and despite his original ideas, Legolas was beginning to think that taking Äri all the way to Rivendell would actually be a good idea.

They were camped in a small cave, probably an abandoned troll hoard, on the edge of Mirkwood forest. They had been doing that for a while, riding on the outside of the forest and returning to it's borders at dusk to find shelter. He looked away from the tiny flames of the fire, took his bow and walked outside.

The whole ordeal was awakening his responsibility, and he was beginning to feel older. It seemed funny to him that adventure could do that to a person.

He scanned his surroundings for any sign of the ford. It was a river that led from Rivendell, he knew that. The one on his side of the mountains was no longer active though, it was more of a path, and those who were more accurate called it the _Old Ford_. The real ford was on the other side of the mountains, towards Eriador, Bree and Angmar. The other representatives, like the hobbit who had the ring, would be coming from that direction.

Suddenly, Legolas heard a distant crack. It was like an explosion, or thunder and he could feel the ground tremble beneath his boots. Äri rose behind him and looked around, until both of their eyes rested on a low peak in the horizon.

Lightning flashed around it and terrifying, high pitched squeals echoed throughout the valley. Their full view was blocked by what Legolas instinctively knew as the silhouettes of the Misty Mountains. However this lightning came from beyond- from the only peak high enough to be seen through the mountains, Amon Sûl. _Weathertop_.

Äri shrunk to Legolas' side, and only then did he realise that he too was beginning to become afraid. Although he was three days from the ford, he was a week from Rivendell and whatever foul creature was fighting on the peak of Weathertop, could find _him_. Could be going to Rivende

He hoped with all his heart that it was defeated by the light.

But little did he know that he was praying for Gandalf the Grey.

And that the foul creature was a Nazgûl and it _would_ be going to Rivendell.

Kicked into action by the prospect of making it to his destination before he could cross paths with creature, Äri and Legolas hurried to reassume their journey. They extinguished the fire, put on their cloaks and hung their satchels on their shoulders.

Cautiously, they lead their horse from the forest, looking for any evil creatures prowling in the darkness, or awakened by the screams of the monster from Weathertop. Then, they mounted and rode through the darkness, riding as fast as their steed would take them, and resolving only to stop at dawn, in the safety of sunlight. 

**Äri's POV**

Tears were welling up in Äri's eyes from the strength of the wind and her hair was coming undone and streaming out behind her like waves. The sounds of the Nazgûl had frightened her and she couldn't stop herself from trembling. Overcome with exhaustion Äri leaned against Legolas' back and wrapped her arms around his waist to stop herself from falling off.

The sky was pitch black and splattered with dim stars, but as Äri looked over the forest she could see a black cloud blocking the starlight over Mordor. The prospect of being left to ride back to the palace, by herself, was daunting. Although she knew how to use a bow, she wasn't especially good at making them, and even if she managed to, she would need arrows.

Plus, that would leave the prince, Legolas, to _walk_ the rest of his important journey, which would most likely involve a trip through the Misty Mountains- seeing as there were no important destinations on Mirkwood's side other than Thranduil's palace, which they left.

She wouldn't risk it.

* * *

_I hoped you liked it, I would really like some reviews- especially since this is the first time I've alternated POVs!  
thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Äri's POV**

Äri was thoroughly exhausted. They had ridden at top speed through the entire night and the early hours of dawn; She could see that everyone else was tired too, but by looking at the way Legolas was sleeping whilst standing, and no bags had been unpacked, she knew they would be repeating this process the next night.

Äri's hair, which had been perfectly straight, and undoubtedly elven at the beginning of the journey; was now windswept, slightly frizzy, and tangled. Her cheeks were bright red and her skin was a smidgen darker than it had been whilst she was living in the palace; she took great pride in the latter, she had always noticed which elves were rangers, adventurers or hunters by the slight tan they had. However, she turned her attention to her hair and began to do it into two braids; like the women living in the Edáin settlements of Minas Tirith and Ithilien; she had been there once.

**Legolas' POV**

He didn't expect such a tiring ride, he was glad of course, that they had made so much progress and that his horse seemed barely phased by the sprint, but naturally he also wanted to rest, and regretted using so much of his energy. He was amused at how dishevelled Äri looked, she had managed to somehow break every known law of elven hair physics in twelve hours, and was possibly making it worse as she did her hair without a comb.

Jokes aside, Legolas took some of their food from his satchel. Thranduil had insisted that they bring some of his store of Lembas Bread with them, and a variety of other long-lasting and filling foods. He took a sheet of the bread for himself and passed one to Äri, who spread the berries they had found on their trip over the bread like a jam.

Most of the trip his thoughts strayed to two things; what he was going to find out at Rivendell, and what he would do with Äri. It was pretty obvious to him that she would not hbe happy to leave, but after witnessing the fight on Weathertop, he thought it wiser to have her turn back with the horse. He could not have her walk, even to the edge of the forest to be found by the rangers, and he needed the horse at least until the ford. So that would have to be the solution.  
He had two blades, one which he could spare for Äri's safety, and his father had sent enough food for three people on a journey much longer than their's. So that would be the plan, he decided, and he would traverse the Misty Mountains on foot, which, hopefully, wouldn't be too hard.

**Äri's POV**

Sleep came easily to Äri that night. Well, more easily than it had previously. It was relatively peaceful and uninterrupted, except for one dream.  
_  
She stood on a bridge over an empty river, holding the reins to a horse.  
Torrential rain poured down from the sky, and an impenetrable mist hung over mountains which climbed up a few miles in front of her.  
In one hand she held a knife, in the other a scrunched up piece of paper, and slung over her shoulder was her satchel, heavy with food._

_She bent down and found a long stick in front of her,  
It was wet with rain and she bent it into an arch,  
She took a roll of Elven rope from her satchel and tied it to either side of the stick,  
She had made a bow._

_She now held the bow in one hand, the paper in the other, and the knife was tucked in her belt,  
She dropped the note and as soon as it touched the ground, it became a parchment coloured puddle, with the words on the note written in it  
She began to read 'Dear Äri...'_

She woke up to a gentle nudge on the shoulder from Legolas,

"You interrupted my dream" she felt it was necessary, because, even if he was going to scold her for not being aware, she might as well tell him

"A dream? What was it about?" that was not the answer she was expecting.

"Well, I don't know"

She tried to study his expression, should she tell him what the dream was about? He seemed slightly concerned, but also oblivious, and he didn't tell her to try and stop dreaming so she could be more alert.

"Hopefully, you'll find out" and he mounted the horse, lending a hand to Äri so she could follow him.

Then she saw his blades, and the knife in her dream.

**Legolas' POV**

Legolas _was _concerned. Elves didn't just _have_ dreams and not know what they were about. He wished Äri would be a bit more open about what happened, but he didn't think it was fair to press her for information just before they went on another long and tiring ride. He did know that he ought to be telling her the importance of staying _out_ of dreams, she would be riding home by herself, and would need to be aware of what was happening around her while she slept- dreams were a distraction every Elf knew.

Which of course led his mind back to the issue of how he would leave Äri at the ford. She would need food, water, a weapon; He could provide all that, but he also knew that he stood no chance of leaving without her following him- if she knew what was happening, he could just tell that was the kind of person she was.

As the horse kept on picking up speed, he looked back at Äri, she had been successful in braiding her hair and was looking out at the Misty Mountains with an unusual longing; Did she know that she would be left behind before then? Was that what her dream was about?

He always felt guilty tricking people out; he figured he would have them camp under the bridge during the day and he would leave while she slept. But he would also leave a note, and hopefully he was far enough away for her not to be able to follow him.

**Äri's POV**

She was beginning to get a bit concerned, she had just seen something out of dream, _she didn't even know about beforehand_. She tried to remember the way she held the knife in her dream, was it really one of Legolas'? If it was, why didn't _he_ have it? _Where_ was he in her dream?

It was getting overwhelming, but she couldn't help but suspect that they would be parting, and she wouldn't be reaching the final destination.


	5. Chapter 5

**Legolas' POV**

The air was cold and damp under the old bridge. The night was overcast and the sun was sinking below the foreboding mountains on the other side of the bridge. Legolas could see Äri resting in his peripheral vision and the horse kneeling down beside her. They had ridden for longer than usual, just past sunset, the night before and had only just come to the Old Ford. They had set up camp on the beneath the eastern end of the bridge that crossed the dry riverbed with their backs to Mirkwood.

He didn't want to do this.

He got up from his sleeping position and silently slung his quiver around his shoulders. Slipping a few packets of lembas bread into his pocket he navigated his way over the loose stones and rubble towards the wall of the bridge. His bow was resting against the stone base of the bridge and he felt far more comfortable with its familiar weight in his hands. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest and he paused to collect himself. Rain was pattering on the bridge above him and the wooden planks were creaking silently in the wind. The howls of the wolves of Dol Guldur echoed in the trees of Mirkwood and the sun was barely visible behind the mountains, the fading colours of the sunset were now the only source of light.

Legolas took the letter his father had meant for Legolas to deliver to the Lord Elrond and used his blade to cut the bottom half of the parchment. He felt ridden with guilt for leaving her behind, so he dipped his quill in ink and hastily began to write:

_Dear Äri,_

_I am sorry that I had to leave you.  
I feel it is unsafe to bring you any further and I beg you follow my counsel.  
The creature was not an Orc, nor was it of good will, and I fear that it may be a servant of Sauron. Please, ride with haste to the palace and bring news to my father that I am well and also give him tidings of the battle on Amon Sûl. I am sure you will be welcomed, if not by your family, by mine, for you were a good companion.  
Your dream disturbs me, and I hope you find its meaning ere you meet it in truth.  
I have left you the horse and I have taken three packs of lembas, the rest remains in the satchels. I will be continuing on my journey alone, and I hope to see you again.  
Horses are no good on mountain trails._

_Legolas_

A knot was forming in his stomach, the eerie silence was haunting and it pained him to say goodbye to Äri... and yet it did not feel like a farewell at all. His conscience was screaming at him to wake her, to bring her with. But he couldn't. He could not put her in harm's way more so than she already was. He knew it wasn't wise to follow the heart's counsel, the story of Beleg Strongbow and Túrin Turambar showed all elves and men alike the consequences, yet he could deny the burning desire of his heart.

He then folded the parchment and slid the knife through it so it would remain closed, until Äri herself opened it. This would be a way for him to remember her, and she him, for the blades were twins and held a link between them. He slipped the letter into his belt and silently crept towards her and the horse. He opened one of the saddle bags and was about to place the letter in it, when he noticed his spare quiver of arrows hanging next to it. He then laid it, and the note beside the resting Äri, perhaps, he thought, she could use them for her advantage.

The sun had set and stars were beginning to appear between the clouds and fog. Rain was pounding down from the sky and mist shrouded all shapes and movement. It was then that Legolas Thranduillion left to continue on his quest alone, cloaked in shadow and unmarked by friend or foe.

**Äri's POV**

Äri was awoken by the splash of water against her elbow and the sudden tingling feeling of the rocks beneath her back. The stood up with a start, hitting her head on the bottom of the bridge. It was pitch black, and Äri could barely see her own hands. She was still half asleep and the contents of her dream, the same one she had had before were replaying clearly in her mind.

It was then, that she realised Legolas was gone, and that the rain was beginning to fill up the abandoned creek- the water was now creeping up towards her resting place...  
Then, she saw the note, and Legolas' knife pinned through the parchment.  
She didn't bother to open it, she already knew what it said.

She didn't really register what she was doing, in a flurry of movements she was standing on the bridge with the knife in her belt, the letter in her hand and the horse's lead in the other. Her hair was saturated and clung to her face and she had to squint to see through the watery film of rain that was covering her eyes.

She was glad for the light of the moon. And even more glad that it was not full, for the calls of the orcs in the mountain were foreboding enough without the eerie addition of warg calls. She had slung Legolas' spare quiver around her back and taken two rolls of rope from the saddlebags. All she had to do now was find a stick...

And then she heard the shrill cries reverberate through the mountainside...

... Orcs.

I'm so sorry that I took so long to post a new chapter, I'm really bad at staying up to date on my chapters!  
I'll try to post a few more chapters soon while I have time to write!

Reviews would really be appreciated... especially with plot ideas and advice!


	6. Chapter 6

His shoulder throbbed, his heart was pounding and adrenalin coursed through his veins, intoxicating him with all the energy he could muster. The unceasing patter of the rain was both a hindrance and a gift to him at that moment. Pivoting on the slippery stone beneath his feet he lashed out at his foe- finally reaching his Panting, he knelt to the ground and let out a heavy sigh./span/p

Legolas knew without looking that his shoulder was gravely injured, and that it was only by pure chance and the will of the Valar that he had made it out alive. He had slain eight of the foul Orcs, which now lay far beneath the mountain pass and the menacing trails of the Misty Mountains- it seemed that fear, fog and rain made you see worse than what was truly /spanHe hoped, and he prayed, that Äri had left, and that she was far far away.  
But his thoughts were interrupted by the sting of an arrow skimming his scalp.

Immediately he twirled and leapt up the rock face towards his hidden enemies releasing an arrow before drawing his dagger- and he remembered Äri. She was his only link to himself as he was before the darkness. A link to a world he wished he lived in, one where he was not a prince caught up in the matters of elven court, nor a warrior defending his home from an unseen terror. Äri was like a younger sister to him, someone that he was capable of protecting, and someone to remind him of who he actually was. /span/p  
But thinking about her only made things worse.

Äri was never one for thinking. Somehow there seemed to be no questions at all, no complications, no hesitations, no... nothing- Just getting on the horse and riding, quickly, to where she thought the source of the screams were. /span/p

As she began getting closer she began scolding herself for her lack of well- precaution, she didn't even know if Legolas was there, if emanyone/em was there, she could very well just be walking herself into some over-excited Orcs having fun on a mountaintop.

But as she came closer and closer to the screams her doubts faded, she could see the bleary outline of orc corpses, and hear their screams, and the clash of metal carried across the cold wind.  
Äri rode desperately, as fast as she could, but as soon as she realised how close she was, how desperate her need for stealth would be, she had none at all. An arrow whistled past her, missing its mark but finding the hind of her horse. Cursing, Äri pulled the arrow from the leg and pulled the reigns begging the horse for all the strength it could muster, praying she would get to Legolas.  
She wouldn't fail him, he hadn't failed her. He had let her leave, he hadn't handed her to the guards, he had let her go on an... adventure. He had let her prove herself.

Legolas leant against the wet, freezing, was breathing heavily, waiting, there were more Orcs, it was only a matter of seconds...  
He tuned into his surroundings, the cold, cruel onslaught of rain, the iron-like rocks- jagged and dangerous. The whistle of the wind, the faint rumble of thunder, the foul screams of the Orcs- the rhythm of hooves against the mountain trail, the whinny of a horse... Orcs did _not_ ride horses. No intelligent being would carry such a hideous creature.

Then he saw her, leaping from the saddle and drawing her bow, releasing an arrow- just like he had.

But a sudden slice to his side forced Legolas to twist hastily back to his previous occupation.  
His knife made contact with the orc's sword, parrying the next strike. Legolas could feel hot blood seeping through his tunic, but cringing, he carried on. Stroke after stroke, he parried and counter-attacked warding off the Orc and his companions, praying that Äri wouldn't get herself killed.

Then the orc did something Legolas did not expect, it swung its iron sword in a wide arc above its gruesome head, the sword came sweeping towards Legolas at astonishing speed and with the force of pure brutality... Shock soared through his veins and his heart pounded in his head. The screams of the orcs began to blend with the rain pattering on the rock face. The wind no longer felt harsh against his skin. He merely saw, he did not think, it seemed his eyes were the only part of his body still functioning as the sword closed in on him.

He could hear the echo of a scream, and the sound of pure terror ringing through the valley, he saw the faint blur hurtling towards him.  
And he felt himself thrown against the face of the mountain.

It hadn't been a conscious decision. It had just seemed like the only way.  
The light glinting off the sword had just sent her head spiralling. The memories, all of them had seemed to run through her head at light speed.

The tears welling in her mother's eyes as she described her Ada limping from the forest, carrying his brother in his arms. How they had whipped him mercilessly for leaving to save his sibling. Then how her Ada had wept for his brother when the poison of the arachnids killed him

Her Ada returning each day from the cruel forest, dehydrated and injured, to provide a living for their family, and then her beloved brother joining him.  
And finally, the fateful day both of them had been carried from the horrid place with orc shafts buried in their chests.

She could feel her feet sprinting towards him, as she remembered running to her mother as she leapt from their home's terrace to the rapids below. Then being cared for and protected by her widowed aunt, and finally hiding herself in the wine barrels, praying that she would leave undiscovered, as the hobbit had.

The same thought echoed through her mind then as it did now, she was sick of having others sacrifice themselves for her.  
She was sick of being helpless as her world collapsed around her.  
And her pace quickened as she hurtled herself towards Legolas, throwing him beyond the sword's reach.

She remembered gasping as the sword sliced across her back, and thrusting her own dagger into the Orc's chest before falling limp to the ground, faint from exhaustion. Her face soaked with rain and plastered with dry blood.

A/N

_Hi, thanks for reading :) I'd really appreciate a review and some suggestions would also be nice!_

_May the Valar and the force be with you ;)_


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